


Guinea Pigs

by ConsultingNargle



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Relationship, Experimentation, Fluff, For Science!, Humour, M/M, Sherlock Experiments on John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 05:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingNargle/pseuds/ConsultingNargle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'John had forgotten how the experiments had started. It was just part of living with Sherlock, before and after their relationship had become a bit more than platonic.'</p>
<p>John lets Sherlock experiment on him. It might seem weird, but it's all part of the package when you're in a relationship with Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pitch Issues

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfic in a long while, so hopefully this isn't completely terrible. And I realise the whole "Sherlock experiments on John" thing is overdone, but I like it and I don't care. The rating is anticipating later chapters. Also I'm bad at titles. 
> 
> I'm not going to promise a schedule for updating this (because I'll never stick to it) but each chapter is going to be a new experiment, and in my mind it's going to get pretty long, so we'll just have to see if that actually happens. If you have ideas for experiments they could do please feel free to suggest them!
> 
> As always Sherlock belongs to the BBC, etc, etc, etc
> 
> DFTBA!

John had forgotten how the experiments had started. It was just part of living with Sherlock, before and after their relationship had become a bit more than platonic. The experiments had escalated over time of course; to begin with it had been more about donating saliva samples and less about being tied to a lamp post outside just to see what happened. But just like the crime scenes, tea and early morning blowjobs it was all part of being in a relationship with Sherlock Holmes. 

***

"John!" 

John looked up from the medical journal he was half heartedly perusing and looked through to the kitchen where Sherlock was working on his latest investigation. As far as he could tell it had nothing to do with a case - Lestrade hadn't dropped in with one for over a week - and surprisingly there had been very little in guts or gore plastered over the kitchen table last time John had walked past. In fact, if John had bothered to think about it, the lack of disruption was disturbing in itself. 

"I'm reading, Sherlock, I'm busy! What do you want?" He overemphasised the small amount of frustration he felt at being disrupted, but to be honest if was more for appearances sake than out any real anger. 

"Wrong. You've been reading that same article for the last thirty minutes and most of that time has been spent staring blankly at the skull like an imbecile. Now come and help me, this is important."

Pulling himself up from the comfort of his chair he walked the few strides into what was supposedly their eating area. On the table sat a large vial of a deep red liquid, almost blood like in colour, though too transparent to actually be a cause for concern. More worryingly a mug sat next to it, half full with the mysterious substance. Sherlock picked it up and thrust it at his long suffering boyfriend.

"Here, drink." Sherlock commanded.

John accepted the mug, giving it a quick sniff and detecting a faint peppermint tang. Swilling it around carefully John saw it contained no lumps or residue of a suspect nature. In fact, to some degree it looked quite a lot like a nice, though minty, red wine.

"What is it? We agreed, you know, that I'd only do this if I was informed of the process beforehand." 

"We also agreed that if being informed of the process was likely to hinder the results that rule was void. I made sure not to use your favourite mug."

Glancing down John realised that the mug was in fact an ancient blue and white striped affair that had been skulking at the back of the cupboard for months without being required for tea. John also remembered that he had quite a while ago, and quite foolishly it now seemed, agreed to that rule about blind testing. Looking up, and already knowing he was about to down the liquid, John looked into Sherlock's grinning face and god, how could that man be so damn endearing. He could deny that smile nothing, would do anything to keep the sparkle in this surprisingly warm blue eyes. 

"Okay, fine. But if anything too untoward happens you will feel my wrath and you know it. I know your weaknesses Sherlock Holmes..." He finished the sentence in a near whisper, eyes trailing slowly down the man's skinny frame, lingering just a moment at the pale nipples concealed beneath his silk shirts. Those thoughts were for later though. Gathering his courage John knocked back the drink, bringing his eyes back up to Sherlock's face in order to gauge his friend's reaction. For a moment nothing happened. Then, suddenly, John began to feel a strange tingling in his throat, the twangs of pain becoming sharper and harder, until finally he let out a gasp of pain.

Only that wasn't exactly what happened. What had been mean to be a huff was in fact a scream, and a high pitched one at that. The sort of noise you'd expect to issue from a Barbie doll if they could express their pain at having their hair chopped off crookedly by eight year old brats. The sort of noise which had never, under any situation no matter how many snipers or assassins he was facing, issued from the mouth of one Dr John Hamish Watson, formerly of the Northumberland Fusiliers and veteran of Afghanistan and London. The smile on Sherlock's face spread through his cheeks and touched the light dancing in his eyes.

"Sherlock!" The voice was still several octaves higher than usual and with each new word John spoke Sherlock's mirth only seemed to grow. "What have you done!"

"Really John, it's nothing." His grin had now reached such epic proportions that it was clear he was desperately stifling a giggle. "Just a simple pitch adjustment formula. I discovered it by accident really, but I was interested in seeing just how radical its effects were. You've demonstrated that for me very well."

"I sound like a fucking choir boy! I think my balls are bloody retracting into my body as we speak." 

It seemed that such crude language in his new voice hit Sherlock's limit. Pitching forward into John's arms the laughter flooded through his body, that deep chuckle filling the flat with its velvet softness. After a minute of holding Sherlock's shaking frame in his arms John joined in too, unable as always to resist his partner's laughter. Not that that helped the situation - in fact hearing the girlish giggle John now gave only worsened the pairs' situation, until eventually the two of them staggered through to the living room, collapsing onto the sofa in a heap. Eventually they calmed themselves and simply lay in each other's embrace, limbs entwined. Time seemed to pass differently when they were like this, deaf to the rest of the world, and neither heard the footsteps coming up the stairs until they were already at the top.

"Lestrade" muttered Sherlock with the same distaste he always used when people interrupted these moments. John frantically tried to motion towards his throat but Sherlock only smirked in response, jumping up to open the door for the DI. Lestrade's eyebrows furrowed as he saw the manic look of glee on his host's face. 

"So Lestrade, you have a case for me I take it. It's certainly took you long enough to bring me something. John was starting to worry I'd have to shoot the walls again." Sherlock glanced over at where John sat and smiled his most devious of smiles. "Weren't you, John?"

Bloody hell, John was going to kill that man. He passed the comment off with a shrug and what he hoped was an appropriate grin, silently praying he could get up and out of there before he was forced to speak in front of Lestrade. It wasn't that he was embarrassed exactly, or that he hadn't been caught in the middle of some humiliating experiment of Sherlock's before. It was more that every time Greg or Molly or Mrs Hudson saw them doing something like this he could see them mentally adding to their mental calculations of what John and Sherlock's relationship was really like. He somehow doubted that the calculations ended with him looking at all sane and he had a curious suspicion that Greg at least was convinced that he was the sub in some kind of kinky science BDSM set up. Which to be honest had some elements of the truth in it but a) they did not need to know that and b) John was nobody's sub. At least not most of the time anyway.

Whilst these thoughts had been flashing through John's mind it appeared the conversation between Sherlock and Greg had ended. In fact the two of them were now looking at John expectantly as though he was being expected to give an answer he'd completely missed the corresponding question to.  
With a sigh, and preparing to shed yet more shreds of his dignity, John spoke reluctantly.

"Er, sorry, what did you say?"

Greg's eyes widened just a fraction more than could ever look natural before exploding into a fit of cackling that really should have made any self respecting Detective Inspector embarrassed. John fixed Sherlock a look that said revenge would be taken later before he joined in with the guffaws that were now issuing from all occupants of 221b. It took an hour, the entrance of Mrs Hudson and multiple cups of tea before anyone actually remembered that they were supposed to be looking at a new case. Well, it would wait - the victims couldn't get any more dead after all.


	2. Lord of the Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John watch The Lord of the Rings - for an experiment...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm not really sure if I like this chapter, but I thought I'd just see what people thought (seriously, thanks so much for all the kudos on the last chapter, it made me very happy) And I'm going to try to get around to some slightly more scientific experiments next, but it was quite late at night and I wanted to write fluff, so I did. 
> 
> Also I apologise for the shameless Smaug reference

"Okay, Sherlock, how exactly is this an experiment? How does the two of us marathoning the Lord of the Rings films serve science in any way whatsoever?" 

John was standing in front of the TV, the first disk poised in his hand to insert into the DVD player, whilst Sherlock sprawled on the couch behind him with a bowl of popcorn balanced precariously in his lap. He'd claimed he had no interest in the sugary confection, but as John had predicted he was now almost absent-mindedly feeding himself individual pieces. He was also sucking on his fingers after every chew in a way that was wholly inappropriate for 10am. 

"I need to study your reactions whilst you're concentrating for a long period of time and this seemed like the least painless way for me to do that. Of course if you'd rather spend the entire afternoon trying to beat me at chess I'm happy to oblige, but I thought you'd probably prefer this." John turned around to roll his eyes at Sherlock and headed back to the sofa. "And don't give me that look John, you do know I try to make life easier for you sometimes. I left you the spare chocolate éclair on Wednesday."

"I think 'sometimes' is definitely the operative word there. But thanks for not making me play chess with you, I don't need to be reminded of how basic minded I am anymore than I am already." He settled on the sofa next to Sherlock as the film began to load, but found a handful of popcorn hitting the back of his head a second later.

"John Watson, you are not basic minded. Your skills lie in areas other than mine but they are no less useful nonetheless." He huffed, sounding far more insulted than was necessary.

John turned around, scooped up some kernels of the popcorn and shoved them into Sherlock's mouth, before pressing a chaste kiss to the bulging lips.

"That really was a compliment for you. Now, are you ready for this to start or have you got some test tubes to set up for your "science". Because really Sherlock, are you sure this wasn't just an excuse for a cuddle on the sofa? You can have them anytime, you know."

"I am aware of that. And I have all the scientific equipment I need here." He reached down to beside the sofa and grabbed a clipboard, complete with a complex table that John had to assume was some kind of response sheet. He didn't even want to try and figure out what exactly Sherlock was studying, it would just make him self-conscious and nothing was allowed to spoil Lord of the Rings, not even his mad boyfriend. 

"I will admit though" Sherlock continued "that I have an ulterior motive, besides your company. Ever since you mentioned in that infernal blog that I hadn't seen these films I've been getting constantly harassed. Lestrade won't shut up about it, people are commenting on my blog rather than leaving constructive responses and Mrs Hudson keeps going on about some other book about those short people and telling me I might find a dragon quite familiar. The sooner I watch this the sooner the world can refocus on solving crimes instead of criticising me for spending my free time productively rather than watching ridiculously long films. "

John laughed, always having enjoyed Sherlock's utter confusion around anything pop culture. John had a plan that involved slowly introducing him to the various TV shows, films and books that John deemed necessary, and though he was sure Sherlock had caught on to this John couldn't really care. It was his own little experiment he supposed, and given his detective's tantrum after being shown Star Wars it probably wasn't any less dangerous than the various limbs and corrosive chemicals stored throughout their flat. He'd been planning on getting Doctor Who in next, and perhaps a bit of Dickens too.

"Mrs Hudson is quite right about the dragon, Sherlock. Look let's get this started, we'll be here until midnight if not.'

***

As the final credits of Return of the King rolled, and John wiped what definitely wasn't a tear from his cheek, he glanced over at Sherlock behind him, who was scribbling a few final notes onto the clipboard. With a flourish he finished and slumped down even further into the worn cushions behind him.

"So, Mr Scientist, what were your conclusions? Has your hypothesis been met?" John teased.

"Despite your mocking, the results have been quite informative. Your pulse stayed at an almost steady rate, even during tense or dramatic moments, showing both a familiarity with the film and reflecting that we experience very similar on a daily basis. Your concentration remained throughout, though occasionally it wandered when too long was spent lingering on the Frodo/Sam/Gollum storyline. Interestingly your eyes dilated just slightly every time an elf came on screen, something I assure you I will not be forgetting." Here Sherlock paused and looked slightly guilty. "Also there are at least ten other conceivable ways they could have got into Mordor without following the Gollum creature. How can that bearded fellow call himself a wizard when he can apparently forget an entire race of eagles exist until the very end of the trilogy?"


End file.
